Michiru Usuri drabbles
by Stylin' Breeze
Summary: Drabbles starring Mujinazaka's setter, Michiru Usuri! (Requests are open. See stylinbreeze60 tumblr for details)
1. A Worthy Foe (Usuri & Akaashi)

**Spoilers for chapter 337**

* * *

It had been a good game. A good cap to the school year.

None of that mattered though. As far as Michiru Usuri was concerned, he had failed his spiker. The best of the nation, who never would get to play competitively in high school again. He broke down in tears apologizing to Kiryuu. It was such an honor to set for a person so larger-than-life (even if Wakatsu Kiryuu didn't act like it).

As they prepared to head back to their hotel, Michiru realized he'd left something behind, probably amidst his crying fit. His eyes still puffy, he told the team he was going back to get it. He sniffed as he jogged through the halls, still in full uniform. He rounded a corner and hit something in his haste.

Usuri toppled backwards, not even sure what happened. And when he looked up, a hand was extended towards him.

"Good game," said Fukurodani's setter Keiji Akaashi.

Usuri just stared for a minute, then hesitantly took the boy's hand and was raised to his feet.

"T-thanks," he replied.

Keiji Akaashi didn't seem upset at all. Usuri's entire game plan hinged on eliminating Akaashi as a factor. He'd achieved that, for a time. The man's mental fortitude recovered faster than Mujinazaka's setter anticipated.

Ultimately, Koutarou Bokuto proved a worthy foe for Wakatsu Kiryuu. And Keiji Akaashi proved a worthy foe for Michiru Usuri.

And just as Usuri's ace would now be moving on, at the end of this tournament—whether Fukurodani won it all or not—so would Akaashi's.

"Your team was slick. Must be something, playing with Bokuto," Usuri complimented.

Akaashi flinched for a second. "He always hated being less than Kiryuu," he grinned.

Usuri blushed at the compliment of his ace.

And recalling Akaashi was a second year and that they both had somewhere to be, he smiled.

"I'll see ya next year," Michiru said and flashed a wave.

Akaashi flinched again. "Yes, indeed," he replied softly.


	2. Lost Phone (Usuri & Yamaguchi)

Of all the people tasked with keeping track of Hinata in the crowds of the arena in Tokyo, why did it have to be Tadashi?

He'd tried to keep up with the spiker, but it was impossible. Now Yamaguchi was just frantically scouring the merchandise stalls for Shouyou.

He whisked his phone from his pocket, hoping to text him, when a burly attendee brushed Yamaguchi's arm. The phone fumbled from his grasp and bounced into the crowd. A passerby kicked it, it ricocheted off another person's shin, and off it went into the nether. Yamaguchi gasped frantically and pushed his way in the last direction he saw it travel.

His phone was nowhere to be seen. His head darted back and forth urgently, but he could tell hardly anything through the shifting gaps of people's overlapping strides.

And then, looking up, something caught his eye.

A second-year boy was holding Tadashi's phone, peering at it curiously. He wore a team jacket that clearly identified him as one of the players. The boy began to look around for lost and found. Tadashi shoved his way over to him.

"Uh, sorry! That's my phone!" he apologized and bowed for causing the stranger so much trouble.

"Oh, good!" the boy cheerfully announced and handed off the device. Yamaguchi typed in his code on the display to see if there were any messages, and that action satisfied the stranger that he'd found the rightful owner.

"I'm terribly sorry!" Yamaguchi bowed again.

"Nah, it's cool. This place's a mess," he said peering around at the mass of people.

When Tadashi looked up, he caught a glimpse of the boy's school name on his coat:

Mujinazaka.

"Where's your team?" the boy asked, recognizing Tadashi as a player too.

"Oh! They're—" His phone beeped. It was a message from Tsukki, asking where he was. "Uh, sorry." He quickly thumbed a reply. Tsukishima typed back that Hinata had shown up without him. Yamaguchi figured everyone was worried.

"Sorry! Gotta go. T-thank you again!" he said and then took off into the crowd. The stranger from Mujinazaka watched him for a few moments before proceeding the opposite direction.

As he wiggled his way past pedestrians, Yamaguchi's heart beat fast.

_Mujinazaka…_, he thought. _That's the team with the best spiker in the nation…._

He gulped. As grateful as he was to the boy whose name he didn't get, he dreaded the thought of playing them.

Heading away from Yamaguchi, Michiru Usuri sternly marched, contemplating. When Yamaguchi took off, he caught a glimpse of the first-year's school's name on the back of his black jacket:

Karasuno.

Michiru knew that name from their briefings before arriving in Tokyo.

_The school that beat Ushiwaka…_, he thought. _They must be a real wildcard. But it doesn't matter. If we play each other, Kiryuu _will_ beat them…. _


	3. Trash Talk (Usuri & Futakuchi & Aone)

**Spoilers for chapter 370**

* * *

It was a slightly solemn moment as Michiru Usuri stepped off the bus in front of the hotel, the same accommodation they'd had last spring. It was the first tournament of Usuri's third year of high school and a broiling summer in Tokyo. As he stared up at the glistening building, he recalled the last time he was here, the company he had back then.

Wakatsu Kiryuu was gone, but nothing would change that. They were here to win.

They'd barely managed to squeak out the win in Oita Prefecture. Indisputably their team was weaker than the previous roster, but it still boasted a veritable assortment of elites. This was the tournament, Usuri hoped, that they would make Mi-chan-sensei proud.

The opening ceremonies came the following day. Usuri, the new captain, led the team in the lineup. After they exited, Michiru went by himself on behalf of the squad to read the published bracket posted courtside on a large noticeboard.

Their first game would be against the Miyagi rep.

Usuri heard good things about the Miyagi representative last year: Karasuno High School. They had defeated Wakatoshi Ushijima, the third best spiker in the nation at the time. This year, Karasuno had lost its final round of the prefectural tournament to the school they were destined to play.

Date Tech.

"Mujinazaka, huh? Sounds like a rodent," a voice complained beside Mujinazaka's captain.

And there, standing beside Usuri, was a third year in a white jacket with evergreen trim that read "Date Tech."

Usuri frowned. The scowling man glanced to his side.

"What do you want?"

"So you're Date Tech," Usuri said.

"Yep, that's us," the man cheekily grinned, strutting out his chin. "I see you're the badgers," he goaded.

From the front, Usuri could see the man facing him had the line under his jersey number, marking him as the captain.

"We are," Michiru frowned. "You're Kenji Futakuchi…," he recognized from game videos.

"Oh, you know me?" Kenji sneered. "I really am famous, huh? Guess we're gonna mop the floor with you guys."

Rather than offended or frightened, however, Usuri only smiled, ignoring the trash talk as he prepared to dish out his own. "For real, I was just thinking that you were the sloppiest player on the team."

That made the veins on Futakuchi's forehead bulge.

And then a towering figure in a zipped-up Date Tech jacket inserted himself between them in a single stride. The man fixed his eyebrow-less glare on Usuri who couldn't decipher the man's intent at all. Michiru knew who he was though: perhaps the powerhouse of their opponent's defense, Takanobu Aone.

But instead, Aone turned to his captain and aimed an accusative index finger at the man.

"Hey! Why're you pointing at me?!" Futakuchi fumed.

But Aone's glare and finger didn't move. Kenji shook irritably.

It was the middle blocker's way of telling the captain he was being haughtier than he had right to be.

And as Kenji had begrudgingly learned over the years, there was no making Aone back down.

"Fine. Let's go," he submitted and moved to leave. Aone at last dropped his arm.

He then spun to face Usuri and, without a word, bowed primly at a ninety-degree angle in apology.

Usuri blinked. Takanobu Aone rose and then began to march directly behind Kenji, acting as a screen to force the captain to keep walking.

"Hey! I can walk on my own! You don't need to force me!" Usuri heard Futakuchi shout from a distance.

Michiru took a deep breath to center himself.

That had been unexpected, but perhaps it was fated.

And despite accusing Date Tech's captain of being sloppy earlier, he'd studied the video closely and appreciated just how good they were.

Tomorrow would be a tough, tough game.


	4. Say Happy Birthday, or Else (Mujinazaka)

**I am accepting requests for Usuri drabbles over at the stylinbreeze60 tumblr! Search the tag "usuri drabbles" for rules**

* * *

December 12th, his birthday.

It was probably Michiru's favorite day of the year. Not because of the presents, but because he would get to hang out with his friends. He always did something special for his birthday: bowling, a pizza party, karaoke. One year, he and some friends went to the water park.

This year was the first year he couldn't do anything special. When he saw the tournament schedule, he had a shred of disappointment.

This year, December 12th was the day of their final game.

All of his friends sent him birthday messages. Even his pal Kouki from Tokyo sent him a heart. He also wished him good luck for the game tonight.

Usuri felt tense in the stadium. The winner of tonight's five-set match would secure a berth in the Spring Tournament, representing all of Oita Prefecture. If they won, it'd be their third time advancing with Usuri on the team.

One year ago, he wasn't even a regular, back when he was still a first-year and their main setter was a year above Kiryuu. He eyed the matches intently in that time, carefully observing how their setter prepared the ball for their second-year ace Wakatsu. Kiryuu was destined to go places.

Now, it was universally accepted that Wakatsu Kiryuu was the best spiker in all of high school volleyball. That was pressure Usuri almost didn't want. If he failed today, it would reflect badly on the team, it would reflect badly on Kiryuu.

But he wouldn't let that happen. He was determined to make sure Wakatsu was a star.

When the ref blew the whistle, announcing their 25-22 win in their third straight set, Usuri couldn't believe his ears. He caught himself crying with jubilation.

He felt so grateful for his teammates. Without them, without Wakatsu especially, they couldn't have done this.

The feeling of having such a great team with him was greater than any birthday present could match.

As they packed up, Mami clapped to get everyone's attention. "All right!" He then slapped Usuri on the back hard. "How'd you like yer gift?" he beamed.

Michiru blushed. Mami swooped behind the setter and presented him to the rest of the team.

"OK! Alla ya say 'Happy Birthday, Usuri' or I'll stab you!"

The statement didn't come off as humorous as Mami intended it, but Unnan stepped forward and lightly jabbed Michiru in the chest. "Yep. Thanks for the mad sets. Ain't you the one giving _us_ the gift now?"

Coach Kuzuri inserted herself into the gaggle. "All right. We need to clear out. Let's take out birthday boy for some post-match barbecue."

The team cheered. Michiru's eyes began to water.

"You guys are _too good_!" he squealed gratefully.

"Quit actin' like you did nothin'!" Mami critiqued.

"It's thanks to ya!" Ezota complimented.

Usuri was so flattered he leaped with excitement.

"Geez. You hop like a rabbit," joked Hondo. "Maybe we oughta get ya bunny ears."

For years, Usuri remembered it as his best birthday ever.

* * *

**The character of Kouki belongs to tumblr/AO3 user yellowwclouds, who requested this drabble~ **


	5. Cunning (Usuri & Ennoshita)

Michiru Usuri lounged in a seat in the back row of chairs outside his flight's gate at Sendai Airport, awaiting the return trip to Oita. Boarding would begin shortly. His new smartphone sat on the small table beside him, plugged into an outlet in a pillar abutting the table to charge.

He came to Miyagi that March to see relatives, but he couldn't help feeling proud of his espionage mission yesterday. He dropped in to a local gymnasium where a practice game occurred between two strong local teams: Datekou and Karasuno. He used the scrimmage as a chance to observe them. The squads consisted only of second- and first-years, the third-years having retired. He paid attention to everyone on the team. Of note for not being of note, the mild-mannered future captain of Karasuno didn't strike Michiru as anything special. Karasuno looked like they'd be a cake team next year if they made it to nationals.

"Mind if I plug my phone in here?" asked a stranger. Usuri looked up at the young man speaking and flinched.

Towering over him was Karasuno's future captain, Chikara Ennoshita, a rolling suitcase beside him and a cell phone with charging cord in his hand.

"Oh, uh, yes," Usuri said, trying to maintain his composure and hoping the Karasuno player didn't recognize him.

Chikara plugged in his phone and took the unoccupied seat on the other side of the table. Usuri sat up tensely. Chikara fiddled with his smartphone for a couple of seconds and then placed the device facedown on the table. It looked almost identical to Usuri's own phone.

"So, are you from Kyushu?" Chikara spontaneously asked.

"Oh, um, yeah," Michiru hesitated, playing along for the sake of not seeming awkward. "I've got family in Miyagi."

"I'm visiting family in Kyushu," Ennoshita said. He then took a close look at Usuri. "Come to think of it, you seem familiar…."

Usuri noticeably jolted. "R-really?"

Ennoshita scanned the person, about his age, up and down. "You didn't come to a volleyball game while you were here, did you?"

Usuri was stiff as a signpost. "Uh, yeah, I did actually. A…practice game."

"We had a practice game!" Ennoshita exclaimed.

"With a team from Sendai, right?"

"Yeah!"

The relief washed through Usuri's veins. It didn't seem that Ennoshita was onto him. He was safe.

"Do you play volleyball?" Ennoshita asked.

As long as Chikara didn't suspect anything, Michiru thought it was fine to talk.

"Yeah," he declared. "I'm a setter!"

"Nice. How's your team?"

"We're pretty good," he bragged, but he stifled the urge to boast of going to nationals. "We're building up in prep for the new first-years. I'm gonna be captain next year."

Unusually, Ennoshita didn't take the chance to bond by affirming he would be captain next year too. "Did you lose a lot of third-years?"

"Some," Usuri replied, reminded uncomfortably of the extinguished light that was Wakatsu Kiryuu. "But our libero's got game, and our wing spiker Hondo has swell sense!"

"Nice, nice. That's always good," Ennoshita nodded genteelly. "What's your team called?"

And at that, Usuri retreated into a shell.

If he said "Mujinazaka," Ennoshita undoubtedly would recognize the name from Kiryuu's legacy and realize that Usuri was scouting out Karasuno. He'd let his guard down and had to escape. He began pretending to feel his pockets as if looking for something.

"Oh! My bad! I left something at security. Gotta run!" He wrangled his suitcase and reached for his phone on the table; but in his haste, he grabbed Ennoshita's phone instead. Chikara reached for the device urgently when Usuri flipped it over and saw the display.

To his surprise, the phone was in video mode.

And it was recording….

So that's what Ennoshita was doing with his phone before they started talking: he started to record and then placed the device innocuously between them.

Why? To record the conversation?

…Which meant that Ennoshita knew who Usuri was all along….

He had figured out he was scouting the team at the gym, and asking to plug in the phone was a ruse to sit beside him and haplessly interrogate him for info on his own team. And Usuri had very much let his guard down.

For how benign he looked on the court, Chikara Ennoshita was actually a cunning nuisance.

"Do you _actually_ have family in Kyushu?" Michiru questioned as he handed over the device.

Knowing he'd been caught, Ennoshita took it suspiciously and stopped recording. "Do _you_ have family in Miyagi?" he replied.

"Yeah, I do," retorted Usuri.

"And I have family in Kyushu," said Ennoshita.

Their scouting attempts were purely opportunistic it seemed. Usuri plopped back in his seat.

"I had a free day, so I wanted to stop by and check out one of the teams that was at nationals," Michiru confessed.

An announcement came over the loudspeaker at the gate, calling the first boarding group to line up.

"All right. That's me," Chikara said and stuffed his phone and cord into a pocket on the front of his carryon. "I look forward to seeing you at nationals," he said with a smirk when he stood.

Usuri liked the kid's spunk. "Deal," he sneered.

Ennoshita shuffled away but paused again. "Oh, and by the way, when I drop in on one of Mujinazaka's practice games"—he said to make it clear he knew which school Usuri belonged to all along—"I'll do a better job disguising myself than you did." He winked and continued on his way.

Usuri grinned impishly. He looked forward to leading his team to defeat someone as tricky as Chikara Ennoshita.


	6. Giants (Usuri & Yachi)

It was a simple request. Go get some snacks for Saeko and the other taiko drummers. Yachi volunteered for it out of a desire to help in any way she could. She found herself skipping through the arena to the concession stands.

It wasn't too hard to find a seller. She spent the wad of cash Saeko gave her and then turned looking to head back.

And that's when she found herself lost. Kids, teens, and adults of various sizes roamed to and fro in the packed area, trapping Yachi in a free-flowing sea of humanity. Merchandise hawkers yelled out hooks and sales promos above the constant gaggle of conversation and noise, making the scene nothing short of overwhelming.

Suddenly she was beset by a volleyball squad in orange and blue. Her knees clacked together, her stature too short to see over the towering athletes in order to read the direction signage suspended from the ceiling.

The three tallest players on the passing team scooched by her, six-foot giants dwarfing her frighteningly. They paused observing the quivering mess of a girl.

"Yo, you OK?" asked Nozomu Mami, eyeing her with concern. Keisuke Unnan said nothing while Wakatsu Kiryuu, peering nonchalantly over his shoulder, seemed somehow vaguely familiar in appearance. Yachi figured she must have seen his picture when she did opponent research with Kiyoko.

That meant these people weren't pushovers. Undoubtedly they were big deals, which meant they were unquestionably strong, which meant they might be cocky with a bad attitude, which meant they could well take her into a corner and rob her of everything she had! Her knees melted, and she slid onto her shins, dreading her death was nigh.

But then Yachi felt the reassuring touch of someone's warm hands on her shoulders, and she began to settle.

The boy behind her, who also wore the uniform of the giants, knelt and softly peered at her face. The tall third-years looked at their second-year setter, Michiru Usuri, comforting the girl.

"Are you lost?" Michiru asked kindly.

Hitoka nodded nervously, not making eye contact.

"Where ya looking for?"

"I'm…trying to get back to the stands," Yachi shyly said.

"Oh! This way. I'll walk you."

Yachi found herself filled with gratitude and appreciation for a moment, until the anxiety of causing someone trouble flooded her veins again.

"N-no! Please don't!"

"Come on. It's right here," Usuri said, grabbing her firmly by the hand and taking her to a portal that led directly into the arena.

In fact, it was only a mere 30 feet away. Yachi hadn't traveled that far from the arena itself at all!

"This good? Or you need help finding your seat?" Usuri asked.

Yachi shook her head vehemently. She could never impose on the kind boy more than she'd already done.

"Cool! Have fun!" Usuri waved and jogged back into the mess of shoppers to catch up with his squad. Hitoka felt embarrassed but grateful for the boy's help.

And remembering she needed to rush the bag of snacks to the taiko team, she skipped on her way to the cheer squad's section in the stands.


	7. For Someone Like You (Usuri & Bokuto)

**Spoilers for chapter 337**

* * *

_Koutarou Bokuto._

_Despite being as amazing as he was, Wakatsu looked up to you._

_What could it be like setting for someone like you?_

* * *

It was a freak coincidence.

Koutarou Bokuto, already making a splash in the college volleyball scene, was in Kyushu, in Oita Prefecture.

Mujinazaka's coach Michiko Kuzuri learned of the visit via some connections and pulled some strings. Much to her surprise, the rising star was more than willing to drop in for a day with her team.

Bokuto sat on the sidelines with shades, but not a single player didn't recognize him—especially the second-years-turned-third-years, Usuri included, who'd lost to the wing spiker at the spring tournament.

When the club was warmed up, Bokuto, leaning back in his chair with a lofty smile, gazed on the high schoolers with awe. College practices ran at a whole different level, even by national-level high school standards. What he witnessed here amusingly felt like cake.

Kuzuri blew the whistle and summoned her cadre.

"We have a special guest today. I'm sure some of you recognize him."

Hondo, Usuri, Bishin—having played in that fateful game last year, they all couldn't help having mixed feelings. Bokuto folded up his sunglasses and slid them into the pocket on his college blazer draped over the back of the chair. He stood tall, threw out his arms, and yelled.

"_Are you ready for this?!_"

The aura the man had as a college freshman completely dwarfed his high school persona. It was still boisterous and youthful, yet it carried an air of maturity. Perhaps all the positive talk about him since entering college had just gone to his head or perhaps he was beginning to wise up into a full-fledged adult. The subtle change about him captivated Usuri most of all.

…So much that he almost didn't notice Bokuto's eyes drilling forthrightly into Mujinazaka's setter's.

"You!" Bokuto loudly pointed at Usuri. "Toss me a set."

Michiru Usuri never felt the jitters this strong since the first time he threw a set for Wakatsu.

Bokuto marched to the court and launched into a few quick stretches. Usuri gawped.

He anxiously claimed a ball and spun it in his hands a few times. Something about this felt wrong. Bokuto had beaten them only months ago. To set to him now felt like a betrayal of Wakatsu.

He shook the thought from his head. The past was the past.

And he recalled what Kiryuu said about Bokuto during their game. One part that stuck with him: "The greatest have fun."

Usuri would make the most of this and have fun doing it.

"You ready?" Bokuto called.

Usuri nodded. He took a moment to calculate what trajectory he wanted. Bokuto backed up and then began to run towards the net. Usuri adjusted his mental image and flipped up the ball. It arced smoothly, right into Bokuto's path.

"Ooh!" Koutarou voiced with excitement and spiked the ball like a cannon. It boomed on the other side of the court and then trotted its way to the back wall. Bokuto beheld the spiked ball with awe after landing.

"That was _awesome_!"

Usuri felt his eyes begin to water.

Koutarou Bokuto—a man even Wakatsu looked up to—was _complimenting_ him.

"Wakatsu was on your team before, right?" Bokuto continued, making the older players jolt at the mention of the college-level athlete. "Man, he's such a force now. He beat me the last time we played."

And then he turned his attention to Usuri.

"But now I know why he liked your sets so much!"

That was the last straw. Michiru couldn't keep the tears in. He wiped his arm across his eyes to futilely hide it. "Thanks," he mumbled out with difficulty.

But Bokuto bounded up to him and smacked Usuri's back hard.

"You shouldn't cry about that. Awesome setters are the best."

Bokuto grinned at him brightly. Usuri sniffed the next round of tears back, knowing he'd never hear greater praise from a greater person ever.

So this is what it was like to set for Koutarou Bokuto.


	8. Blocks (Usuri & Tsukishima)

**Set after nationals but configured so that there are no spoilers.**

* * *

With nationals complete, teams had to make their way home, but trains had been snarled due to an incident, and some teams had to make other arrangements. Karasuno opted to fly. This meant bussing all these teenagers to the airport. As it happened, another team was also headed to the airport and offered the stranded club a ride:

Mujinazaka.

As the ones renting the bus, Mujinazaka got picked first, and then they came by the dinky inn Karasuno used as accommodation. The Mujinazaka boys paired up like a clique in the front half of the bus (leaving enough room in the initial rows for Karasuno's coaches and managers at Kuzuri's direction) before letting on the hitchhikers. The badgers had odd numbers, leaving Usuri with a vacant seat beside him.

Karasuno's group shuffled past silently, feeling like invaders in someone else's space. Hinata gave a long stare at Kiryuu, recognizing him immediately as the top ace of the nation (Wakatsu flinched at the unsubtle attention), while Kageyama scanned the group as if gathering stats with his eyes. Takeda graciously bowed before Coach Kuzuri in gratitude for the assistance, and Sawamura took a moment to thank his counterpart Kiryuu. Usuri watched over the seat as Wakatsu give a slight nod back to Karasuno's captain.

The Karasuno club filled up the empty seats in the back of the small bus quickly; mathematically there should be just enough spots available. Usuri casually surveyed the mob until the last crow came up alongside and silently shifted luggage into the overhead compartment, stuffing it alongside Michiru's. The bespectacled blond with headphones resting on his shoulders rummaged around for a sleep mask and cell phone charger cord in the stowed bag. The boy then plodded into the seat beside Michiru.

"Sorry, is there an outlet there?" Kei Tsukishima asked.

"You betcha." Usuri took the charger and plugged it in on his seatmate's behalf. Kei skimmed his phone for a second and then settled back. The bus began to jerk without fanfare and headed on its way.

Coming from Kyushu, the sheer scale and bustling of Tokyo astounded Michiru. He spotted a red tower peeking between buildings.

"Is that Tokyo Tower?"

"No, that's a radio tower," Kei said blandly, channeling Nekoma.

"Really? You been here a lot?"

"We did camps here," said Kei.

"Really? With who?"

"Nekoma and Fukurodani," he said, to name the recognizable teams. Usuri's face lit up with awe.

"You trained with Fukurodani?! What was that like?!"

The first flashbacks that came to mind were Bokuto's annoying "hey, hey, hey"—in fact, it was every annoying moment of Bokuto that came to mind. Tsukki hid his mental frustration well and just shrugged. "It was OK. Good blocking practice."

"Man, Bokuto's sure somethin'. Even Wakatsu admired him."

Tsukki took a moment to deduce he was referring to Wakatsu Kiryuu.

Usuri continued. "He's for sure a-goin' places."

Kei yawned. "And now we won't have to worry about him anymore…" he said of the graduating third-year.

Usuri chuckled. "True!" And then came a tinge of disappointment at the reminder of the passage of time. "We can only do this a couple more times, comin' out here, and playin'."

Kei didn't want to think about that. It was a long high school journey ahead.

Usuri interjected again. "Hey, since ya played Bokuto, can you show me some blockin' moves? We saw yer game against Shiratorizawa on tape. You really stuffed Ushiwaka."

And at that, Tsukishima had to blush.

"Absolutely, I'll show you," Tsukki smirked, but his snide grin said something else in a very sarcastic way: _"Of course I'll be glad to help those less fortunate. (Not.)"_

His ear twitching at Kei's reply, Hinata, seated behind Usuri, pounced onto the top of the headrest. "Hey, Tsukishima! Don't share your snobbiness with other teams. They'll think we're a bunch of jerks."

"Try scoring when it counts, then," Tsukishima said, taking off his glasses and at last donning the sleep mask. Hinata was ready to throw down, but Kageyama yanked Hinata back down with a shout of "Boke!"

Kei settled back to get a nap in. Usuri resumed admiring the passing cars and towers, looking forward to the next time he would see them again.

* * *

**If you'd like to see a pairing (platonic only), submit a request through my tumblr, stylinbreeze60.**


	9. The Meaning of Teamwork (Usuri & Daichi)

**Did I blatantly imitate the Land vs. Sky OVA for Daichi's speech? Yeah. But it's hardly untrue.**

* * *

After hearing about his team's defeat at nationals, Daichi could feel his friend Michiru's pain, even if the younger boy tried to act strong in text message.

Sawamura and Usuri had been friends since elementary school. Both lifelong residents of Kyushu, they both played volleyball. The third-year Sawamura's team was knocked out in the third round of the regionals without ever playing Mujinazaka—probably for the best, since Sawamura was convinced his mediocre squad would have been creamed if they had. Since then, Daichi thrust his undying support behind second-year Michiru Usuri's dream of taking the nation.

With the esteemed Wakatsu Kiryuu at their side, Daichi could see it happening.

That being said, Daichi knew defeat was always a legitimate possibility. And so Sawamura was prepared for the text message Usuri sent after the game. Truth be told, he'd watched the game on TV and knew the outcome before Usuri even had access to his phone again but pretended to be learning of it for the first time.

Usuri put on airs, sounding confident and future-focused, but Daichi knew the taste of defeat and how bitter it was. "Hey. Let's grab a bite when you're back in town," he eventually proposed.

And so the pair did a few days later. The two of them met at their favorite café, ordered malts, and enjoyed the sunny afternoon in Oita Prefecture.

They chatted casually, Daichi sharing some of the gossip from Michiru's absence. Then Daichi asked what Tokyo was like. Usuri lauded the fancy hotel room (it really wasn't that fancy, but for Usuri's upbringing, it was penthouse-living). Then he began talking about the overwhelming size of Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium and how great it was to lock horns with the best of the best. Michiru recollected some of the most shining plays by his teammates in their games.

And then his memories brought him to the moment of defeat. Daichi tilted his head at the patent mood shift. Somehow, right away, he knew that whatever Usuri was about to say belied the boy's entire melancholy since losing the game.

"It's my fault we lost," Michiru mumbled. "I didn't use Wakatsu well enough."

And then Daichi's anger surged.

As the third-year captain of his volleyball team, he'd seen plenty of bad habits and unhealthy self-talk patterns. Michiru always remained happy-go-lucky and the schemiest person Daichi ever knew, but this mood right here was not like him.

In fact, the statement made Daichi's anger seethe.

Michiru jumped when Daichi's fist hit the table.

"How can you say that?!" Sawamura yelled. "Do you realize how _disrespectful_ that is to your teammates? To act like _you're_ so exceptional that any failure can only be _your_ fault?"

Usuri blinked as Sawamura continued.

"Volleyball is a _team_ sport. Every person, every play on the court is connected. Nothing is ever any single person's fault, losing included. So don't let me ever hear you say that again, that the game ended because of _you_."

Sawamura settled down, the hawkish glances of adjacent tables retreating to the hovels of placid conversations. Usuri gawked in reply.

Everything Daichi had said was true, and Usuri knew it deep down. It embarrassed him that he'd forgotten such a basic fact about volleyball.

"It also means," Daichi concluded more calmly, "that success is not an individual effort either. I'm done with volleyball, but you—you still have one more year. Rebuild your team and head back to nationals, stronger than ever."

He smirked. "I look forward to seeing what the new Mujinazaka can do, _future captain_."

Usuri almost teared up, but he wiped his sleeve over his eyes to stop it before it started.

"You betcha!" Usuri declared firmly.

Daichi smiled in reply.

And they simultaneously sipped their malts.

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**The last of the drabble requests I received on 12/12/2019 for Usuri's birthday. Drabble requests for any platonic ship with Usuri are still open, and my inbox is empty. Head over to tumblr and send one in if you want. :)**


	10. Reminiscences of High School (Usu&Goshi)

**Another drabble request from tumblr~**

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When they met, Kiryuu wondered why Goshiki's energy seemed familiar. They'd not talked before Goshiki became the new recruit of the Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets. Ever since entering Division 1 play earlier that year, Tsutomu infected the squad with his interminable confidence. Kiryuu found the boundless enthusiasm reassuring.

Wakatsu scrubbed the sweat off his face in the locker room postgame when a figure danced in with a guest pass.

"Wakatsu!" screeched Michiru Usuri, casually dressed in a brown sleeveless jacket and jeans and smiling as brightly as his high school days. Goshiki, expecting a reporter, peered at the surprise visitor.

"Usuri, you're here," Kiryuu said, sounding almost surprised. "I thought we were meeting tomorrow."

"I figured you might get flustered if you knew I was gonna watch the game, so I kept it hush for ya. And you did awesome!"

"Ah, uh, thank you," Wakatsu managed a smile. Goshiki peered with wonderment at the man conversing so freely with his fellow outside hitter.

"Oh, this is Michiru Usuri," Kiryuu introduced belatedly. "We played together in high school."

"I played setter!" Usuri exclaimed. "Speakin' of, those sets today still blow me over. You're a real ace hittin' 'em and getting' past those blockers!" Usuri rambled at his ex-teammate.

"Ah, well, yes, it is, uh, quite demanding," Kiryuu blushed.

"Ay, you sound like a city slicker now!"

Tsutomu stared in complete awe.

_Whoa, he talks to Wakatsu so casually. Must be because he was his setter, _he pondered and then reflected on his first setter in high school for comparison….

"_**I make a good set, and you go and ruin it."**_

"_**No one grates on my nerves more than you."**_

"_**How can one person suck so horribly at life?"**_

"You doin' OK?" Usuri asked Tsutomu, visibly trembling from the traumatic flashbacks. Goshiki quickly composed himself.

"Absolutely! Bahaha!" he cackled excessively.

And suddenly Usuri was right in his face.

"You're Goshiki, right?! Your spikes today were soarin'!"

Goshiki cleared his throat to keep his composure. "Yes, they, um—I practice," he adlibbed. He was never good at interviews, and this exchange somehow levied even greater pressure.

But Kiryuu's friend backed off with a supportive smile. "You got a topnotch team though. They'll back you up and let ya hit as many balls as ya want!"

Goshiki blushed.

It was the truth. He was still unfamiliar with his new squad, but he grew more accustomed to them with each passing day.

It reminded him of talking to Shirabu on the phone recently:

"_Hey. I saw your game on TV. Good work."_

Tsutomu blushed.

"If you want to hear my thoughts, I think you're gonna win it all!" Usuri cried joyfully.

"Yeah!" Goshiki shrieked with hype.

"Yeah!" echoed Usuri.

"_Yeah!_" they screamed together, high-fiving jubilantly.

And now Kiryuu understood why Goshiki's energy seemed so familiar….

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**If you want more, submit an ask on tumblr at stylinbreeze60.**

**(Inspired by a piece of art by twitter user msk_kmk)**


	11. Pact (Usuri & Yahaba)

**Another new drabble request from tumblr. Head over to the stylinbreeze60 tumblr to submit a request for more Usuri stories. Let's continue to show Mujinazaka's setter some love!**

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"Shigeru, your cousin is here!" cried the teenager's mom from downstairs. The younger Yahaba wanted to ignore it, on the bed flipping aimlessly through a Shonen Jump mag, not at all engaged by any of the content he hadn't read already. He grumbled off the bed and trudged to the top of the stairs.

He was supposed to be playing at Sendai City Gymnasium right now and not see his cousin Michiru until evening.

"Thanks, Aunt Akemi," Michiru Usuri greeted Shigeru's mom, holding his bags. Yahaba emerged at the top of the steps, downcast.

The woman caught sight of her boy lollygagging. "Shigeru, help Michiru-kun take his luggage up."

Yahaba didn't want to share his room for the duration that his cousin was in town, but such was the agreement with his aunt and uncle in Kyushu. He dumped the bags at the foot of the bed, ensuring enough space remained in the middle of the floor for the futon that would be dragged out after dark.

Usuri, coming off a prefectural regionals win just a few days ago, looked to be on cloud nine.

"Did you win?" he cheerily asked his cousin.

Yahaba's fists tightened.

"No," Shigeru whispered. Admitting the truth was enough to unclench his fingers at least.

He hated this stupid visit. It was sandwiched during winter break, right on the heels of the Miyagi Spring High regionals.

If Seijoh had beaten Karasuno, Yahaba would be preparing to play Shiratorizawa right now. Even though he himself didn't play in the game, the loss hurt like heck.

"Awww," Usuri tried to empathize, but what did he know? He had one of the top three aces in the country on his team! They'd won their prefecture easy, as far as Shigeru was concerned.

"Our final foe was tough," Michiru continued.

"Easy for you to say."

"It was! They commit blocked Wakatsu-san bad! I had to set for a lotta the others, but they kept blockin' 'em in time. We almost lost the first set!"

Yahaba sighed. Shigeru only saw his cousin once every couple of years. When they were younger, they'd practice sets and spikes together. They both talked about their dreams of setting for really strong aces and winning nationals. While Yahaba complained about his snooty senior Tooru Oikawa, Usuri gushed about the hitter he was with, Wakatsu Kiryuu. The best equivalent to Kiryuu that Yahaba could speak of was the guy who barely showed up to practice half the time, Kentarou Kyoutani.

"Inu-san was super cool," Usuri said. Yahaba blanked on who he was referring to. "The guy you called a wild dog, the one your senpai called KyoKen."

Ah. Yahaba was glad Kyoutani wasn't around to hear that.

"He's nothing special," Shigeru complained, still frustrated by his teammate's flaring temper and utter disrespect. Still, he seemed to kind of get it when the game was on its last leg….

"Nuh-uh," Usuri shook his head. "I saw him online. Someone filmed him. I couldn't see you cos they didn't aim at the box, but Inu-san nailed that spike against the crow team! You shoulda won with a muscle like that!"

Yahaba thought back to slamming Kyoutani against the wall against the advice of his senpai. "He's got _problems_," he griped. However, during that moment in the gym, though he had no proof, Shigeru felt like he'd maybe gotten through to the selfish hitter.

"He's gonna be a power cannon. I want to face him next year," Usuri said. What he didn't say was he really hoped to cripple that cannon by undermining his _setter_….

Yahaba pondered the future.

Usuri was right. They had one more year. They still had a chance. Next year, Shigeru would be in charge.

And unlike Oikawa, he would be able to use Kentarou Kyoutani to the fullest.

Yes, those freak twins from Karasuno would still be around too, but together, Shigeru and Kentarou could beat them. They could make it work.

Usuri threw his back onto the floor with a thud. He was halfway drained after the day of traveling.

"But all truth though, those crows are good, but when we face 'em in Tokyo, Wakatsu-san and I will show 'em. Our clan ain't pushovers."

Usuri sprang forward, extending his arm for a fist bump. Yahaba had to smirk.

"You better make them weep."

"You bet!"

"Want me to set for you?" asked Shigeru.

Despite Usuri's exhaustion, out they went to enjoy the cool afternoon breeze.

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**To request a drabble, submit an ask on the stylinbreeze60 tumblr (anon asks are OK) with a pairing with Usuri, and I'll make an SFW gen (i.e., non-romantic) drabble. (Specify if you don't want angst.) I'm currently open, so I expect the next request to be completed within a week of receipt.**


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